The Stark Birthright
by birdofafeather
Summary: When Sansa's escape from Kings Landing becomes a quest to reunite her scattered remaining family, and retake their stronghold of winterfell which she claims by birthright, testing the loyalties of those around her. Characters include Sansa, Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, Pod, Gendry, Sandor, Arya, and more. A what if fic based on a change of situation in the episode 'the lion and the rose'.
1. A change of plan

Tyrion Lannister stood stony-faced at the window, dreading what was to occur. What had to occur if he was to keep is beloved Shae safe. The damning words of the spider had not fallen on deaf ears, and he knew that lord Varys had not lied. The spiteful gaze of his sister, following Shae around the gardens, spurred him to action. He would not allow Cercei another victory, especially not with Shae's life at the prize. He steeled himself as he heard her enter the chamber, his back to the door.

Shae shut the door behind her, and began to prowl across the room towards him. "Don't." He couldn't let her touch him. It would make this so much harder, he'd never had much self-control. He heard her stop halfway across the room and half turned to face her.

"Do you want me on the desk?" she suggested playfully sitting down. With a fixed expression he walked past her. "What's wrong my lion?"

"Don't call me that." If she called him that he would crumble.

"What should I call you?" she pouted.

He cut her off before she could continue. _Be brisk Tyrion. Treat it like business. _"I'm afraid our friendship can't continue," he nodded decisively.

"Our friendship," Shae scoffed sceptically.

Again he ignored her. "There is a ship waiting in the harbour bound for Pentos."

"What?" Shae's voice was calm, but tense with rising emotion.

"You will have your own cabin of course, and across the narrow sea, a house. Servants."

Shae shook her head slightly, as did her voice. "What is this?"

Tyrion swallowed. "Married man. My wife has suffered a great deal, as you well know. I don't want her to suffer any more on my account. I need to uphold my vows." The lie was hard and he had to force it past his calm exterior.

Shae stepped forward, seeing through his lie, with a sad smile on her face. "She doesn't want you. You don't want her!"

Tyrion began talking over her. He knew if he stopped and let her she would win. _Gods I'm going to have to hurt her. _"I need to do right by her, by our children." He quickly glanced up at her and then resolutely back at his feet.

Her stare was condescending. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid." _I'm so afraid._

"You are! You're afraid of your father and your sister. Are you going to run from the all your life?"

"I need you to leave." He cut across her sharply. _Run Shae. I need you to run from them._

"I'm not afraid of them," she announced defiantly, and then as if reading his mind… "I'm not going to run from them."

"Shae…" He wanted to beg her to understand. She was walking closer.

"We'll fight them together, it's like you said I am yours and you are mine." She leaned in towards him.

He was going to break. His defences were going to crumble and he was going to submit to her. She was so close to him, welcoming him, wanting to love him. Shae being dragged to the hands tower. Cercei's gloating sickening smile of triumph. That pink dress and dark hair swinging in the breeze as they pushed her of a scaffold. _No! _ He had to hurt her. He opened his mouth to unleash the killer blow. "You're a –"

The door burst open and Sansa ran in, Bronn hot on her heels. Tyrion and Shae looked up at them. Sansa was panting, tears in her eyes, and Bronn was shrugging, as if to say that he had tried to stop her entering.

"Lord Tyrion I beg your help. And if not your help then your discretion. I have to leave kings landing. I cannot stay in this Gods forsaken place for a moment longer. If you won't help me them I beseech that you do not hinder me and allow me to make my own way. If you can offer me any way out of here unnoticed then I will be forever grateful." Sansa knelt before him, eyes wild.

Shae knelt down next to her and started stoking her hair, while Tyrion held her jaw gently and looked into her eyes. "Who has threatened you Lady Sansa?" he inquired softly.

"Only myself. I have been so foolish. I was offered an escape by a man who would not hurt me, and like a little coward I stayed. Oh I regret that moment. If only I could take it back." Sansa wrung her hands as she remembered the night of the battle of the blackwater, the inebriated hound waiting in her chambers. "If I hear another snide comment from our esteemed king Joffrey about any of my family I will kill him, and Sandor Clegane is no longer here to stop me," she threatened.

Bronn let out a low whistle at her audacious explosion of tears and death threats. Shae pulled Sansa's head to her chest and was making soothing noises. "Shush Lady Sansa. We have nothing to fear. We need not run from cowards. What can they do?"

"Shae the question is what can they do to me that they have not already? Lord Tyrion please help me leave. You're a clever man. I have faith you could help me without being held responsible." Sansa had turned back to the man, but he was looking out the window apparently blankly, but under the surface his brain whirred.

_Escape. _Such a tempting prospect, never so tempting to him as right at this moment. Sansa becoming unstable, he didn't love her, but a sweet girl who deserved so much better, and tethered to him by marriage. Shae, under threat from his own family, a woman he loved and the only to ever love him in return. And himself, humiliated and ordered around, reduced to the title of master of coin, mopping up little finger's monetary mess and scraping the financial barrel to make the capitals ends meet. _We could sail for Pentos. _ He shook his head at the ridiculous thought. _No, too simple, they would know. They'd follow. _Tempting as it was the ship was to easy a plan to smuggle a prize such as Sansa from under Joffrey's nose.

Tyrion began to pace about the room, strategies and ideas chasing each other round his head. The other three forgotten as he disappeared deep into his thoughts. Shae, Bronn and Sansa watched on in worry and confusion as he continued to pace, and mutter obscenities and negations under his breath. "My Lion?" Shae interrupted him gently.

"Bronn I want you to fetch Pod and return her with him. Shae, Sansa, can you ride?" Tyrion demanded.

"I can my Lord," Sansa answered him meekly.

"What in the seven hells is this about Tyrion?" Shae ignore his question. "Are you out of your mind? My lion are you ill? You're speaking nonsense."

"We're leaving. I'm going to get Bronn to make it look like we left for Pentos on that ship I told you about. We will ride North."

"I beg your pardon Lord Tyrion?" gaped Sansa, expecting her plea to be strongly rejected.

"What?!" shrieked Shae startling them both. "You tell me I have to leave because of some danger I fail to see, and now you suggest we up sticks and escape the capital! Are you drunk? Tell me the truth, why do I have to leave here? Why do _we _ have to leave here?"

"Because my father told me he would hang the next whore he found me with! And Cercei has noticed you, and she has told him," Tyrion shouted at her breathing heavily. "Only this morning my father said he would have you brought to the tower of the hand. I don't want to see you dead Shae!" He turned to look at Sansa who was waiting silently whilst the couple argued, and started as if he had only just realised she was there. "Sansa I apologise. It must be upsetting but you should know the truth. Shae and I –"

"I know about you and shae. You are more obvious than you believe yourselves to be," Sansa smiled at them softly.

"You know? You know and you do not mind?" asked Tyrion, eyes wide. He had not expected this at all, he had expected disappointment. Disgust even.

"No. I understand that Shae was your lover first. Neither of us wanted our marriage, and it isn't even a real marriage, is it my lord. I might be bothered if the marriage was consummated, but as we are not an intimate couple, I feel myself as detached from the matter. I am merely glad that you make Shae happy. She is a dear friend to me," Sansa explained with a smile to Shae, who smiled in return, gratitude and relief in her dark eyes.

"You are not as predictable as all around you believe you to be Lady Sansa," he answered with a relived sigh. At that moment, Bronn returned with pod in tow. Tyrion snapped into action. He threw a pouch of gold at Bronn who caught it and weighed it in his hand. Bronn I nedd five horses all packed with essentials for an escape North, grab any items of yours that you wish to take with you. Podrick. I need you to buy five passages to Pentos, on the boat bound to sail there have my clothes and Lady Sansa's clothes packed and sent onto the ship. Make it vaguely obvious yet appear sneaky. Lord Varys's spies will do the rest. Sansa, go with him to your room and pack a bag of essentials you can ride with, pack only your warm plain dresses, the less highborn you look the better. Shae pack your things, change into something more suitable for riding. Cloaked hoods for all of us. I must see my Father, so he believes nothing is wrong until we are gone." The other just stared at him. "Go!"

Pod was the first to move, hurrying of to make shipping arrangements, Sansa hurrying after him to retrieve her belongings. Bronn shrugged and followed them through the doorway to find horses. Tyrion opened his wardrobe and filled a bag with clothes and some gold before strapping a dagger to his waist. Shae just stood there staring at him. "My lion, you're scaring my. This is not planned, we will be caught. We don't need to run we just need to stay together –"

Shae was cut off when Tyrion pulled her down and kissed her. "We're not running Shae. We're freeing ourselves. We're all prisoners in this rat trap. Sandor Clegane had it right, fuck kings landing and fuck the king. Let's go. We'll leave this terrible place behind us. Be mine Shae, come with me. We can't be together here."

"Tyrion a matter of minutes ago you were trying to end us, now you are begging me to stay with you. I don't know what way is up anymore!"

"We are up. Us. We can't be _us _if we stay here, but if we go, I don't have to send you away. Do you trust me Shae?"

"I do my lion."

"Then pack yourself a bag, and meet us at the flea bottom gate."

…

Sansa packed a bag with the essentials, lavender soap, her hairbrush, cloths for her moonblood, plain woollen dresses, underwear, ribbons to tie her memorably red hair up, candles, two pouches of coin, her jewelry and the doll her father had given to her shortly before Joffrey had murdered him. Pod was stuffing the rest of her fineries into a large traveling chest, before writing a label on the chest, Lady Sansa Lannister.

She covered her hair with the wide hood and pulled it low over her face, winding her way down the servants' stairway and out into the hot kings landing sun. Milling around the market she slowly wandered through flea bottom. She tied to keep her breathing steady, trying not to remember what happened last time she was alone in the poorer parts of town. _"Have you ever been fucked little girl?" _She shuddered at the memory. She should have been disgusted by the way the hound had killed those repulsive despicable men, but thinking back on it, after the nightmares she had had, and the sleep she had lost, she felt a guilty swell of satisfaction, especially at the way the man holding her ankles was gutted like an animal. She should have been terrified of the hound after the violence she had seen him commit, but his deep voiced reassurances and solid muscular arms had made her feel so safe and secure.

As she walked she stayed out of the shadows, where she knew those unsavoury types were prone to lurk. She had not expected Tyrion to aid her in her escape, and was extremely surprised by his impulsive response to her proposition, however not one to look a gift horse in the moth, Sansa was seizing the opportunity to leave her 'cage', and hopefully for trepidation, at a brisk walk she detoured down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards where she knew the flea bottom gate out of the city was. Lost in her thoughts and trying to walk through the alleyway as fast as she could, she didn't notice the man in front of her until she crashed into him.

Strong arms grasped her and she attempted to scream. A hand covered her mouth and her hood fell back to reveal her recognisable red hair. "Please don't scream. I'm sorry I wasn't looking where I was going, and I was trying to make sure I didn't knock you down and… I know how this must look, but I'm not... I'm gonna let go of you, but please don't scream, the guards will find me, and I'm trying to keep a low profile. Promise you won't scream?" he asked, his voice gentle. Sansa nodded. And he carefully set her back on her feet. Noticing her fine clothes he looked at his feet blushing, and he began to stutter. "I'm sorry milady, and thank you again, for not screaming."

Sansa noticed that he was only a young man, who could not be many namedays above twenty. He was well muscled and had a small amount of facial hair dusting his chin and upper lip. The innocent and mortified expression on his face settled her decision. "Not at all. I am certain that I overreacted. It is only that I have had a bad experience with alleyways before. What is your name?"

"My name? My name, oh, it's Gendry. Gendry Waters of flea bottom. And you? If I may ask of course milady?" Gendry smiled at her.

"Lady Sansa of house Stark." She knew as she said it that it was a mistake. They were trying to escape from this city unnoticed and she was telling people who she was? _Oh Sansa, you stupid little bird. _"But now I must go." She turned to leave but the boy was following her.

"Sansa Stark? Of the house Stark. The Sansa stark, with Tully blue eyes and red hair, and a highborn. How didn't I notice?" Gendry laughed.

Sansa turned to him. "Look Gendry, Gendry Waters of flea bottom, you don't want to be found and neither do I, and if you have designs to give away my position, I will just scream her and now and we will both be caught, so advise you not to tell a soul who or where I am." She tucked her plait back into her hood and looked at him inquiringly.

"No my lady, of course not. I am only surprised because I know so much about you. You see I knew your sister. Your father's friend Yoren cut her hair and was taking her with us who were being sent to join the knight's watch. She talked about you a lot. You and the rest of your house. He was going to leave her at Winterfell on the way up there, but some king's guard who were looking for me killed him and many of the men being taken North. We got away and began to make our own way. The last time I saw her she was alive and well, and as far as I know she is still out there," Gendry explained hurriedly.

"My sister is still alive!" laughed Sansa, before realising where she was. "Why did they send the king's guard after you?"

"Same reason I'm a wanted man. I'm Gendry Waters, and if I was legitimate, I would be Gendry Baratheon. I'm the bastard son of the late king Robert Baratheon and a tavern wench, and in the eyes of some, if they knew who I was, I have more right to the throne than that Joffrey cock. Sorry for my language milady," he added, remembering who he was talking to.

"Can I trust you Gendry?" Sansa breathed, holding his eyes.

"You can milady," he smiled sincerely.

"Tell me something you would only know if you had talked to Arya. Give me details on my family. I don't mean names, I mean stories," she demanded.

"You all had pet direwolves. Jon snow called his ghost, bran's is summer, Rickon named his shaggydog, Robb's was called Greywind, your's was called lady, but the king made your father kill it, and Arya's wolf was called Nymeria, but she had to let her go because otherwise she would be killed for biting prince Joffrey." Gendry took a breather, but before she could interrupt, "After careful consideration she has come to the conclusion that she does not wish to be a boy, but wishes to be allowed to behave like one without being looked down on. She thinks all males are idiots, well she thinks most people are idiots actually. She's fierce and feisty and said that you don't get on bet she misses you sometimes, she regrets that she had to leave without saying goodbye, even if you did lie about what happened with the butchers boy."

"That is enough, I trust that you do know her Gendry. If he guards are looking for you then why are you back in kings landing?"

"There are worse out there than the king's guard." Gendry shuddered as he remembered mellisandre's leeches. "The king's guard know my name, but not what I look like."

"So you came to a place where people you used to know will easily recognise you and give you away without even meaning to? You, my friend are no wiser than me. I'm leaving king's landing Gendry. Thank you for the lead, I am going to find my sister, and I am going to go home. Would you like to come with me?"

"I would like it very much, milady."


	2. A taste in men

Tyrion looked out of the window of the tower of the hand anxiously, towards where he could see the boat bound for Pentos. He had little over 15 minutes before that ship left the port, and if he was not out of this meeting before then, his father would surely know that they had not sailed for Pentos, but escaped on horseback. The longer he was held up here, the longer his companions had to wait at the flea bottom gate, and despite being a busy area, four people loitering with five horses was bound to gain some attention and even some questions. His father had continued to drone at him about the importance of control over the king, before lecturing him on the importance of impregnating his Stark wife.

With time ticking, he attempted to appear calm and not twitch too much, but he was itching to leap of his chair and make a run for it. Appearing interested in what his father was saying was beyond him, but that was normal, it would have looked suspicious if he had hung of Tywin's every pompous word. The relief he felt at finally being dismissed was immense, and he had to force himself to leave the room at a leisurely pace. Cloaking himself once he had left the vicinity of the hands tower, he took the servants passageway, one he found one night when sneaking off, away from his father's watchful eye, to visit Littlefinger's brothel. Using a network of back alleys, he navigated his way through the half maze, half slum city that made up the poor part of the capital of the seven kingdoms.

Coming across no one but nameless peasants reassured him, as none of these people could be traced and hauled before the king, and after the events of the riot, not many of these paupers would be willing to surrender any information to Joffrey. The worst thing that would happen would be for him to be seen by a king's guard, as even with his hooded cloak, his unfortunate stature made him an easily discernable figure, as much as Sansa's hair and Tully blue eyes made her identifiable. At least Shae could blend in with the capitals other immigrants. Bronn could take care of himself, and a squire like Pod would not be accosted for walking around with trunks of luggage. Pod would however be noticed by the right people, like Lord Varys's spies, and the message would be passed on, that Tyrion Lannister and his little wife Sansa had fled for Pentos.

He heard his name called, and looked up, dread in his heart, only to find Podrick himself walking behind him. He turned to hiss at the squire, "Don't call out my name! Are you slow Pod? We cannot be recognised, or my head will be on a spike next to Eddard Stark! Did you do it Pod? Have you played your part in the plan?"

"I did Ser. The captain is waiting for us now, but I told him that he should travel on time whether we made it or not, as we would catch the next boat if we were unable to make it, due to your duties as master of coin. I paid him a little extra, to ensure he was amenable," Pod informed him.

"Do you know anything about the progress of the others?"

"I don't my Lord. I escorted Lady Sansa to her room but I have not seen her since she left it."

"I should have sent Bronn with her. A lady should not travel through the streets alone, especially not through the flea bottom streets," Tyrion groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. So much could go wrong with this plan. However his worries were seemingly assuaged when he saw the others standing at the side of the gate with half a dozen horses. _Half a dozen?_ He counted again and became aware of another person standing next to lady Sansa. Oh for the love of the seven, this was like babysitting. Did the Stark girl know nothing of subtlety or secrecy? Donning a casual look of nonchalance, he strolled forward, Pod in tow. "Lady Sansa, would you please tell me the meaning of this," he gestured to the young man standing next to her, with overly calm forced politeness.

"I believe, according to lady Sansa, that this young man 'simply must accompany us'," Bronn mocked, earning a scowl from both Sansa and Shae.

"His name is Gendry, he too needs to flee kings landing, and he knows that my sister is alive. He could lead me to her, as he has an idea of what part of the kingdom she might be in. And before you ask Tyrion, I do trust him, I have questioned him on my sister and I know his information could only be gained by listening to her ranting."

Tyrion held his finger out threateningly and opened his mouth to speak. The girl was so naïve and trusting, for all he knew, the man had told her he had known her sister in a previous life of something of similar ridiculousness, and everyone knew Arya Stark was a mouthy little urchin. _I don't have time for this shit_, he huffed internally. Changing his mind, he stood there for a minute like an idiot, finger poised and mouth hanging open before declaring, "Fine. He can travel with us, but if he betrays us, then Bronn will kill him. Deal?" _Problem solved, simple_, Tyrion smiled to himself.Both Sansa and Gendry nodded at him in solemn affirmation. "Now everyone get on a bloody horse and let's go. Podrick, your assistance if you will?"

Pod held his hands together and boosted him up onto one of the smaller horses. "I should tell you this now my Lord, that I'm not entirely sure how to do this, this riding a horse thing."

"But you're a squire!" Tyrion despaired. "For the sake of the seven. Tie your horse to my saddle then, we'll have to teach you later, now hurry Pod." They mounted their stolen horses, and lying flat so they could squeeze through a gate meant to be walked through, they slipped through and out into the dusty stretch of field beyond, before spurring their horses on, Bronn in the lead, galloping away from the prison of king's landing. Shae caught Sansa's eye and they both began laughing at the free feeling of galloping away from hell. Tyrion galloped up to where Bronn was leading the group, Pod's horse led behind, and Pod holding on to the saddle for dear life. "We will gallop until the horses are too tired, and then walk on through the night. This is no caravan, and the ride will not take a month, the longer we take, the more chance they will catch up with us," he yelled over the wind.

Grinning like lunatics they spurred their noble steeds on towards the open road.

After about ten minutes, the novelty had worn off. The glamour of a dramatic horseback escape was soon overshadowed by the fact that dust was thrown into their faces with every stride the horses took, and the adrenaline from the speed could not drown out the feeling of buttocks repeatedly slamming a stiff leather saddle for hours on end. Sansa and Shae's moans and groans in protest turned to whimpers and whines as their thighs were rubbed raw by the friction of their saddles.

They were all relieved when they tumbled down from their mounts, deep in some woodland, many miles from kings landing as the sun began to go down. Bronn was roasting some rabbits over the fire for them as they gingerly sat down on logs, assessing the damage. Pod began to get the bedrolls out. "I don't think so Pod. Not unless you wish us to be murdered in our sleep," Tyrion sighed, sucking the last of a wineskin dry. "We rest for an hour then we ride again. What did everyone bring? Clothes I presume? Maybe knives, anything useful?" he asked the group at large.

"Two bags of gold, and I'd be willing to sell that gold necklace Joffrey gave me if we need to," Sansa offered. Tyrion nodded in acknowledgement, before turning to Shae.

"One bag of gold, and two knives. The one on my leg and one I can give to Sansa," she responded.

Tyrion tried to ignore the arousing thought of a knife strapped to his woman's thigh, and quickly turned to Pod, who answered, "A sizable amount of your gold my lord, and a knife to defend myself with. I have one of those axes you favour too."

Bronn spoke before tyrion could even look at him. "I've got enough gold to keep me in whores for about two months, so don't you worry about that. I'm wearing my armour, I've got my bow, two quiver's full, five daggers, a hunting knife and a sword.

Tyrion turned towards Gendry. "I don't suppose you have any gold stashed anywhere boy?"

"One and a half bags, and I've got a sword," Gendry told him defiant towards Tyrion's dispariaging attitude. Shaking the small sack that held his meagre belongings. It jingled with the sound of metal. A sizable sword adorned his belt. _Not a greatsword like Ice, but nowhere near as little as Arya's needle, _Sansa noted nostalgically.

"Well we are reasonably rich for runaways," Tyrion laughed, rubbing his face tiredly. "They will have noticed by now that we are missing, and I hope the Pentos decoy will be taken as truth, but I still believe that the more space between us and them, the better. We rest for an hour and then continue through the night. We will make camp tomorrow night agreed." A chorus of moans was his answer. "Anyone who believes they will fall asleep should tie themselves to their saddle, the horses should follow each other. I'll ride at the front and take first watch."

After chewing through a few hunks each of fire blackened rabbit, which Bronn protested 'wasn't _that _bad', when he saw the facial expression Sansa pulled when she tasted it, they saddled up and set off through the wood. Shae trotted her mare up towards where Tyrion was leading, and urged her horse to fall into step with his. "Are you all right my lion?"

"I am. I'm tired and sore, and quickly running out of wine, but you're still here. Although I don't have booze or a bed, or unbruised buttocks for that matter, I have my Shae," he smiled up at her. She smiled back. "And you know how much I love booze, so feel very complimented by that, it is a huge 'I love you'."

She laughed softly. "Do you think we did the right thing?" she asked him, suddenly serious.

"At the moment I am feeling very much that we have done the right thing, but ask me again when we are caught and I'm strung up on a tree by my leg, being beaten like piñata, I might reply differently," Tyrion quipped. "And we haven't had sex in an age! When we find an inn, I will make up for it. I should have bloody taken you on the desk when you offered earlier."

"And have Sansa walk in on us? Seeing and knowing something are different my lion," Shae teased.

"I'm in love with you Shae. I don't even know your last name, and it doesn't matter. I'm not in love with your name. You can't love a name. A name can't love you back. I love _you_. But please promise me you won't hurt me, because my tiny, bitter little heart can't take much more."

"I won't hurt you, or your heart. I am yours and you are mine," Shae whispered before reaching out for his hand.

"No Shae. I must concentrate on the road, the knife comment earlier was distracting enough. See to Lady Sansa, she is not used to life on the road as we are."

Shae huffed at him, rolling her eyes playfully. "But you must promise me, later."

Tyrion rolled his eyes in return. "Later," he placated her. "Now go."

Shae turned her eyes to Sansa, who was grimacing with every stride that her horse took, and let her own horse fall into step beside her. "How are you holding up my lady?"

"I don't feel like a lady. I feel tired and dirty and seven forbid it _sweaty_!" Sansa confessed unhappily. "But on the brightside I'm on my way home, and my beloved betrothed Joffrey," Sansa formed sarcastic speech marks with her fingers, "Or exbetrothed now, cannot publicly humiliate me anymore. On the downside, I no longer have any skin on my inner thighs, and my buttocks have become square."

"I know how you feel Lady Sansa. But you are right about one thing. We are free, and you cannot put a price on freedom, even if it has cost us blood and even _sweat_," Shae laughed in a mock scandalised voice.

"Well then we must keep smiling and prevent tears from joining the list," Sansa returned, a big naïve smile on her face. "It is like a song. Unorthodox and painful, my rescuing knights a squire and a Sellsword and a dwarf, but I am being rescues from Cercei the dragon." The pair of them tittered at that particular description.

"I am very proud of you my lady. You have been very strong today. A leader, taking a stand. You pushed Tyrion to action, and you know how stubborn he can get. You demanded we travel with that raggedy Gendry boy. You are becoming a strong woman."

"But I'm not, Shae, I'm not. I only behaved like that because I was desperate. It was my fear, it made me strong. My sister is the strong one. And my brothers. I am only a _daughter_ of Winterfell, and if I was a strong woman, I would never have endured all that Joffrey put me through. If I was strong I would have pushed him off that walkway, no matter what anyone said to me otherwise. I would have rebelled when he hit me, I…"

"That makes you a smart woman. A weak woman would have given in to the temptation and pushed the little runt king, a weak woman would have tried to run from the unjust punishments thrust upon her, and a woman who wasn't strong would not have begged for mercy for her Father. A weak woman does not heed her head, or any advice, and quickly becomes a dead Woman."

"I don't want to talk about that Shae. I never want to talk about that again. It was my fault, I should have broken off my betrothal and left with him while I still could, but I was selfish, and stupid."

"Selfish, stupid and _strong, _Sansa. Not the best combination, but you are strong. You have learned from your mistakes and now you are wise. The only one holding you back now is you."

Sansa looked deep in thought for a minute and inclined her head in a sort of sceptical acceptance before groaning. "I cannot wait until we are far enough from kings landing to stay in an inn. I remember having to stay in an inn once, with Father, Arya and Brann, after we got caught in a storm after visiting the Umbers, up at the last hearth, the bloody place was further north than winterfell. My brother and sister were so excited to be sleeping in a new place, however even at a young age, I felt disgusted at the lodging conditions. I will never complain about a straw bed ever again after this." Sansa let out a sigh. "I look back and feel ashamed of my younger self sometimes."

"Everyone has regrets. One day, I will tell you my secret, my biggest regret of all, and it will make being sad at a plain inn silly," Shae sighed. "Anyway," she changed the topic, "Is his knowledge of your sister the only reason you invited that muscly young man along? He is rather handsome Sansa. Are we sure we don't have a little infatuation going on?" She teased in a whisper, glancing to where Gendry rode, looking awkward at the back of the pack.

"Absolutely not Shae! It would not be proper for a lady such as myself to become infatuated with a man I have no intention to marry." Sansa's stuffy words sounded very much rehearsed to Shae.

"From what I have heard, someone was given a rose by a rather dashing heroic knight of the flowers! How scandalous, as she was _betrothed_ to the prince at the time. How was she ever going to intend to marry the handsome knight when her heart and hand were promised to the golden prince of the realm? I don't think that stopped her being a little bit infatuated with the gorgeous Loras Tyrell though, and-" Shae's playful prodding was interrupted by Sansa's furiously desperate blushing and shushing. Shae changed tack. "For the record Sansa, beautiful boys, tend to either appreciate the attention of other beautiful boys, or to be spoiled, pampered little shit's like Joffrey. Unless you develop a liking for the powerful muscular body type, you will end up with a husband who either beats you or likes taking you from behind, up the-"

"Shae!" Sansa squealed in horror, eyes like dishes, at her crude and saucy comment. "How could you assault my innocence with that, that…" She trailed off, at a loss for a descriptive word polite enough to use yet vile enough to describe the filthy comment.

"Oh my Lady! Do not tell me you do not think about sex Sansa, because you do, any fifteen year old girl does. And none of that, 'it is a factor I have considered as a future duty when I am a wife', pigshit you like you spout. There must have been a man at some point, young women your age are easily impressionable, I've been there, whom you have fantasised about, even if it was merely a heated kiss."

Sansa blushed a deep red, at the thought of her daydreaming about the 'not kiss'. _Is that what a fantasy was? _ Sansa blushed harder at the memory of hard, muscular arms and the strong, secure broad shoulder of her 'not a Knight' saviour, that she had been slung over after her rescue. "I am not averse to a muscular sort of man," she mumbled.

"Who is he?" Shae cooed at her persuasively.

"It doesn't matter," Sansa sighed. "I ruined any chance with him when I turned down his offer of escape. I was a coward then too." Sansa's mind darted to the enormous muddied and bloodied, one white kings guard cloak taking up a large amount of space in her bag. It was sentimental foolishness that had made her bring it along with her, but to her, the filthy thing felt as much of a gift as the Rose from the tourney. Sandor had been magnificent too, at that tourney, saving Loras from his brother, the mountain. What did winning matter when you saved people? Sandor Clegane had certainly saved her, and a number of times at that.

"I know who you are talking about," Shae nodded in understanding. "It does surprise me however, that as a girl who has shown a preference for lanky pretty boys, you pick a man with enough muscle to share with three men, and is the ugliest man I may have ever seen," Shae smirked.

"Hark who is talking!" Sansa jerked her head to the front of the pack where Tyrion was riding.

Shae let out a giggle. "You married him!" she squealed.

"Shae! That does not count, I was forced to marry him, and therefore he does not reflect my taste in men at all! And Sandor is not the ugliest man! The other side of his face, while not picturesque, is not entirely unpleasant," Sansa protested, and then preceded to try and shove her off her horse, playfully.

"Maybe you should talk to the lad," Shae changed the subject, avoiding Sansa's pathetic swipes, and again glancing back at Gendry. "He is here because of you, and therefore, as you highborns would put it, your guest. Tyrion resents him being here, and death threats, while necessary in this case, are not the best welcome to a group. Talk with the poor boy, he is clearly uncomfortable."

Sansa looked back to where Gendry rode, watching the rest of the group warily. She tried to turn her mare out of the line, and the horse fought against her noisily before a sharp kick to her sides sent her into an aggravated trot. Sansa winced at the friction on her raw skin. Gendry perked up perceptively at her approach, and Sansa smiled at him in return. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, milady," Gendry reassured her, yet his tone suggested otherwise.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault that I dragged you into my mess, but things will get better. When you gain their trust, they will behave differently towards you. They, unlike me it appears, have learned not to trust other's blindly," she tried to reassure him. "Tell me, why were you and my sister separated? It sounds as if you were good friends."

Gendry hung his head in shame. "We were. But I left her when the brotherhood without banners, who we had been captured by, sold me to that frightful red woman. The red priestess. I was so blinded by her beauty, I didn't realise what she intended to do to me. Arya told me she didn't like her the moment she saw her, and asked me why I did. I told her she didn't understand because she was a girl."

"I think as a girl, Arya understood perfectly what was going on," Sansa sighed sympathetically. Arya's judgement would no doubt not have been tainted by the idiotic incapacitating desire men seemed prone to suffer from.

"No shit," Gendry huffed. "I always forget how smart she is. I often forgot she is a she at all. She irritated me to no end, but now she isn't around, I miss her. I wish I could see her again and say that I am sorry for leaving her, to tell her she was right."

"Oh no! Never tell Arya she's right! It only makes her self-righteous disdain of the world worse, and in turn makes her a _much_ more insufferable being!" Sansa gasped in mock horror. They laughed together sharing the memory of Arya's indignant facial expression. "Gods, the last time I saw her she was ten years old, she will be about thirteen now! If I see her again I will probably hardly know her," Sansa fretted.

"I wouldn't worry. Nothing, even time is strong enough to change that stubborn girl," Gendry quipped.

….

From her seat on Craven, her white stallion, Arya glared at the back of the hounds head. Whatever the fuck he told her, he was still the worst shit in the seven kingdoms. With a face like thunder she contemplated the hound's diabolical behaviour. There was no way he could have known the famer and his daughter would not live through the winter, and now with the famer injured and their silver gone, they had no chance of living through until the end of the summer.

"Are you still sulking, Stark?" he grunted back at her.

She did not dignify his question with a response, and the black expression on her face intensified. _The very worst shit!_

"You could sulk for a week and it would make no difference to me, wolf bitch. In fact, I enjoy the silence," Clegane chuckled. He adopted a whiny mocking tone, " 'Where are we? Do we have a map?'." He laughed gruffly. "I know where we are Stark. I've been roaming these kingdoms since before you left your father's nutsack."

Arya's hands tightened on the reins, knuckles turning white, before she snapped. "What the seven hells do you know about nutsacks Clegane? Surely it didn't take any balls to steal silver from a withered old farmer and a frail, skinny little girl." She adopted a low grunt and began to mock him, "I'm not a thief, man's gotta have a code,'" She took a big breath before raising her voice to a shout. "You don't even have the bollocks to stick to your own bloody code! You are just a _murdering! Thieving! Shit!_" She ended her tirade screeching those three titles at him. She slowly sat back in her saddle. There was no noise other than the clopping of hooves and her own ragged breathing.

The silence stretched.

A feeling of awkwardness stole over Arya as the sky darkened.

Some time later, getting down from his mount, the Hound spread his bedroll and flopped down, armor clanking, turning away from her, making it clear they were making camp. He didn't say another word.


End file.
